Protector
by kittn
Summary: MacGyver wasn't the only protector in this series. A tribute to his mentor.


A/N: I know this was a long time coming, but today I felt like it finally sounded right. This story is a tribute to the memory of Dana Elcar, without whom MacGyver would have lost some of its gentleness and humanity.

The series and characters all belong to their respective owners, and I'm not one of them. I'm not making any money off this… don't sue me!

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It was a long, rainy day in Los Angeles. MacGyver wore the black trench coat he'd worn to too many other funerals; he figured this coat had enough bad memories attached to it already. Today he added a new one. On his left stood a grieving son with his police escort; he'd been allowed to leave his jail cell long enough to watch his father be lowered into the ground. On MacGyver's right stood a weeping … well, he couldn't quite call her a widow. She'd divorced the dead man many years ago. Still, she was mourning his loss. Behind him, his son discreetly laid a hand on MacGyver's shoulder, trying to transfer strength through the layers of clothing.

He could feel their misery, but neither of them could understand his. Michael Thornton had some relief mixed with his anguish. Every time Michael saw his father, he could see the disappointment and betrayal in his eyes, no matter how many times Pete told him he was forgiven. Now Michael would never again have to be reminded of how much he'd disappointed his father, the one man who'd always supported him. Connie Thornton… She'd been out of Pete's life for so long that Mac wasn't even sure she would show up. Then again, Connie had always tried to be there for Pete when he needed her. He knew that the reverse was true, too, and that was probably why she came. Sam looked up to Pete as a role model and counted Pete among his good friends, but still it wasn't the same.

For MacGyver, this was a special kind of pain. He hadn't just lost a boss or a co-worker or even a friend, he'd also lost half of his relatives in one fell swoop. Pete was the only person who was there for MacGyver the time he'd been thrown off that parking garage and nearly died; Pete was the one who'd pulled him out of more sticky situations than he could count; Pete was the only one who ever bothered to get to know Sam. Pete had been the only constant in his life. Sure, Jack was around – he was even here at the funeral – and Penny came out with Jack, but they all seemed not to get it. Pete was dead, and they would never see him again.

None but those who had known him for a very long time could tell just by looking at him, but MacGyver was very close to shattering. He wanted to shout and rage against something or someone, to fight the evil that had been done. But Pete was dead, and it was an illness, not a gun, that had killed him. MacGyver was helpless to right the wrong, and that was what brought him to the edge of his sanity. He'd only felt this way once before: when his mother died. Jack was one of the two people who recognized the look (Mac vaguely remembered Jack's hand on his shoulder when he went to visit his mother's still-fresh grave), but he also didn't know what to do about it. It was Pete who'd really been there for Mac when his mom died. Jack watched his friend from the sidelines, praying that the strength Sam gave him would be enough to carry him through this day. Tomorrow… Jack would deal with tomorrow.

The crowd thinned, but MacGyver never noticed. Finally, there were only six mourners remaining. Connie had a new husband, now, and he was waiting for her at home. She hugged MacGyver fiercely, and he would never remember, but he hugged her back. Michael's guards told him his time away from his cell was over, and he shook Mac's hand awkwardly before he left. Again, Mac would never remember doing that. Eventually even jack and Penny left, and this part Mac would remember. He held up Penny as she broke down, hiding his own tears by burying his face in her hair. Penny stepped away and Jack spoke a few encouraging words to his friend, then they both drove off. Through all this the hand on his shoulder remained constant.

Now alone except for his son, Mac moved forward and placed the item in his hand on the coffin. Pete had often joked that he was buried by his paperwork, and now he literally was. Mac smiled a rueful smile, recalling the day he'd promised Pete he would do just this. They had been joking around, of course, but Mac thought it was appropriate. Pete had lived and breathed his work, and now it would follow him as far as the grave. Mac had had to sneak out this memo, but it was worth it. As his hand brushed the coffin, the tears came. He nearly fell to his knees right there in the mud, but a strong pair of arms caught him and held him firm. He felt himself being steered back to the Jeep, heard the doors slam and the engine start, but all he could see was Pete's face… a face he would never really see again.

Weeks later, Mac once again stood in the graveyard. He had been unsure whether or not to do this, but today it felt right. Part of his heart healed as he watched as the groundskeeper prepared the spot, then lowered the tombstone into place. He brushed his hand over it, reading the words carefully: Peter Thornton. Friend, Father, Protector.

Through the years that followed, Mac visited the grave faithfully. Sometimes he just stared at the tombstone, sometimes he laid flowers on the ground, but always, always, he was there with his whole family: Pete, who would always be with him, and Sam, who refused to leave him.


End file.
